


The Motion Of The Ocean

by Lokisgame



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Smut, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 19:41:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14268174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokisgame/pseuds/Lokisgame
Summary: She was beautiful. Not in an exaggerated, poetic way...





	The Motion Of The Ocean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Daggoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daggoo/gifts).



She was beautiful. Not in an exaggerated, poetic way, no moonshine glistened on the sweat on her forehead, no Titian tresses framed her face to take his breath away.  
She was truly beautiful, real in her scent and the catch in her breath, the heat around his cock and weight balanced on his chest, palms splayed, knees digging rhythmically into the liquid mattress.  
And that's where his problems began. He watched her in the mirror above them, her back arched, then her head thrown back, lip trapped between her teeth, focused on the motion of her hips, searching. He tried to watch how they joined, watch himself disappear inside her, but if was too intense, he would be gone in seconds. Now hands on her breasts, he kneaded and teased, pinched and rolled the tiny pebbles of her nipples. She was beautiful, perfect... and then his stomach rolled, uneasy from the ebb and flow. The bed gave little in way of support, so they rocked together back and forth, the mattress rippling, bobbing like a boat.  
"Scully" he squeezed her hips, fingers digging into her skin, trying to stop her mid-motion "Scully, stop"  
"Why?" surprise or panic, he didn't know "What's wrong?"  
"Nothing's wrong baby, you're perfect, it's just"  
"Mulder" her gaze focused on him, reading his face "you look green"  
"It's the bed" he chuckled, keeping very still.  
"The bed?" definitely surprise.  
"Yeah, I need a minute"  
Only Scully could simultaneously sound amused and concerned, but she too kept still "Do you feel sick?"  
"I feel stupid" he groaned, the mirror above mocked him and he felt himself grow soft.  
The bed rocked as she shifted, trying to be quick and gentle at once. He would love to escape this watery grave of his dream of her, but laying down made it easier to control his stomach at the moment.  
"Oh God" he groaned, moving to his side as another wave rolled over him, hiding face in the cool pillow was his last chance.  
"Can you get up?" she was back, her hand on his forehead, comfort in her familiar tenderness. She noted that he looked pale, but not worse than a minute ago "come on, let's move to the couch"  
She stroked his bare shoulder, coaxing and soothing at the same time. If it was anyone else, he would feel mortified. Instead he just wanted to laugh. Grabbing her arm, he gingerly slipped his legs over the side of U.S.S. Shame.  
"Help me up" he sighed and her hand was immediately there, steadying and supporting. He sat up, head hung low, holding on to the wooden frame of The Titanic about to go down. She leaned over him and chancing a quick glance he saw her flushed chest framed by the shirt she picked up in haste. His shirt, sleeves rolled up to free her hands, and her face, beautiful but concerned.  
"Better?" She asked with a small smile, hands completing the ritual of her quasi-medical checks.  
"Getting there" he smiled faintly.  
Reaching for something behind him, she leaned across his lap and then soft terrycloth covered his shoulders, his bathrobe, she must have went to get it a minute ago. Mulder helped her slip his arms into the sleeves, not taking his eyes of the view in front of him. One button made all the difference between flaunt and tease.  
"C'mon" she pulled at his hand, forcing him up, taking his weight as he steadied himself with hands on her shoulders, noticing her smirk, as her eyes slipped down. The room around him was slowing down "Couch?"  
"Yeah" her arm inside the robe, his arm around her, she guided him the nine steps back to the safety of his living room.  
"Here, sit down" the leather creaked, this was his home for years. His head fell back to the cushion, her hands resting on each side, standing over him, like a doctor she was "Still nauseous? Lightheaded? Dizzy?"  
"Better" he smiled and surprised her, pulling her back into his lap "and I'm not done with you yet"  
She smiled as he walked his fingers up her thighs, working his way under the shirt, back where they started "Now, where were we?"

**Author's Note:**

> word associations with Daggoo spawn the weirdest and best stories; THANK YOU


End file.
